


It's Good to Question Stolen Lipstick

by boyswithbombsinnme



Category: Gerard Way and the Hormones, Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Cute Ending, Drabble, Gen, Gender Confusion, Gender Identity, Nonbinary Gerard Way, Sneaking Around, Trans Gerard Way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 11:18:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boyswithbombsinnme/pseuds/boyswithbombsinnme
Summary: it can be hard to get the ingredients for a secret gender expression experiment





	

An angry beeping fills my ears, and it vaguely sounds like the words “You’ve been caught”. 

I’ve been running from this monster for what feels like hours, and I won’t look back. It’ll be there, I know it. I leap over the river, crash land on the gravel. The beeping words grow less understandable and the ground pulls out from under me. I kick and flail my limbs, hoping to catch on something and escape the shifting earth. Slowly, the ground grows softer and smoother, and I hit a hard ground.

But when I open my eyes, I’m not near any river, I’m on the wooden floor of my bedroom, tangled in old, faded star wars bedsheets. I must have fallen off my bed during the nightmare. I should have known it was just a dream. It’s only after a moment that I realize the beeping from my dream is still going, but it was no monster, it was the alarm clock on my nightstand. Unknotting my arm from under my torso, I stretch over as much as I can to avoid actually getting up and unplug the small machine before it gives me another headache.

Today is the day. I’ve been planning this for weeks, and I am determined not to back out a second time. Today is the day.

I push the ball of blankets off my legs and unceremoniously onto my mattress and walk carefully out of my room. I stand at the top of the stairs and strain to listen downstairs. I hear exactly what I was dreading: nothing. That means that my mom is still sleeping in her room. My plans just got a whole lot harder, but if I don’t do this now, I never will. 

I step carefully over the floorboards that always creak and tip-toe to the end of the hall, right up to her door. Today is the day.

Turning the handle and slowly pushing open the door, I glance over at the scene. The lump of her body under the old gray sheets is immobile and breathing deeply. There is a mess of half-used foundations, eyeliners, highlighters, and lipsticks scattered across the surface of mom's bedside table. She is alone, as expected. Dad is an early bird, so he's probably out for a walk or something. What a weirdo.

I walk as silently as my body will let me, with tense legs and exaggerated foot placement, probably looking somewhat like a cartoon character, over to the table. I put a lipstick that seems less used than the others into my pajama pants pocket.

Now for the hard part.

Her dresser has so many drawers, way more than mine does, I don’t know where to start. Praying that she’s a heavy sleeper, I slide open the middle drawer. I don’t need bras. Not yet, at least. Maybe I never will. I slowly pull at the top left drawer. Socks are no use to me, I have my own. In hindsight, I should have investigated more before I decided to do this. A muffled moan escapes from the lump of my mother behind me. I drop to the floor in case her eyes open, to get out of where her line of vision would be, but all she does is stretch and turn over. Too anxious to stand back up, I tug at the bottom right drawer. No luck.

I pause and take a deep breath to steady my shaking hands. Shaky hands will make me louder and get me caught. I try the bottom left drawer, and thank god! I found her skirts. I yank out a blue, pink, and white striped one from the messy pile and close the drawer as silently as possible before escaping through the door. Today is the day.

* * * * 

A few hours later, I am leaning against the short, square building that holds our town’s guitar store. My best (and only) friend Lindsey works here, and her shift should be ending any minute now. I zone out looking at the bright blue sky and feeling the warm breeze that is so foreign on my legs from how often I either wear jeans or just stay inside.

I am jolted out of my dream state by the glass door swinging open. Lindsey strides through, fixing a green sweater over her sturdy shoulders and pulling her long dark hair out of the back. Eyes squinting in the sun, her gaze meets mine. I smile a bit and extend my arms out nervously as a presentation of my new lipstick and skirt.

“You actually did it, Gerard!” she exclaims, bounding over to tackle-hug me. “How do you pull off a skirt better than I ever will?” Lindsey added, with her usual fake skeptical tone, accompanied with a smile. Tears fill my eyes as I regain my footing and finally feel like my authentic self. Today was the day.

**Author's Note:**

> this started off as a story i had thought about for a while with characters i made up, and wrote for my english class. but then i decided to put Gerard and Lindsey in it because i felt like it would be cute.
> 
> comments and suggestions are always welcome! thank you so much for reading my story! <3


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